33.

"I'll go find some tissues or a cloth for you," Anwar suggested, ruffling my hair casually after we had sat looking at each other for a while. He opened the sliding closet door, put on his pants, and quickly exited the closet. I watched his broad, healthy back and the abdominal muscles that disappeared beneath his black slacks. He didn't even think to button them properly.

The tall figure stood fidgeting in the bedroom, trying to look for tissues or a cloth as he said he would. Meanwhile, I just lay still, trying not to move because I didn't want the fluids lingering on my stomach to spread any further. The bathroom wasn't far away, but if I got up, it meant those fluids would flow down and mess on my body all the way to my feet. So, it seemed better to sit still and let Anwar find something to clean me up first.

I sighed and looked up at the white bathrobe hanging above. "Should we use this one first?"

"Oh! Sorry!" a voice suddenly said. Anwar turned back to look at me before quickly pulling the sliding closet door closed.

I froze, my heart racing in surprise. The more I glanced down at my nearly naked body, the more I felt a chill. I unconsciously raised my hand to cover my mouth without realizing it.

"Yeah?" Anwar's voice called out, pausing for a moment before continuing, "Jamie...."

That name.... Jamie?

I glanced at the door, hoping I could see through it to view what was happening outside, but I could only hear soft voices filtering through the crack in the closet.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"Why are you here?"

"I was looking for someone who's still playing hide-and-seek. And why are you here, shirtless?" Jamie asked, his voice slightly accusatory.

"My shirt is dirty," Anwar replied evasively.

"I thought I might meet you tonight, but I didn't expect to actually find you. Did you not see
me, or are you just pretending not to notice?"

Anwar didn't answer this time. He remained silent for several seconds, until Jamie asked a
different question.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"The person who came with you, the one sitting next to you at the dinner table... who is he?
Can I ask?" The question made me clench my shirt, stiffly waiting, my hopes rising and
being crushed simultaneously.

Was he referring to me? Was that question about me...?

"Is he the reason you're pretending not to see me?"

"Jamie," Anwar murmured softly. He paused again, making me hold my breath, my stomach
churning, almost making me faint within seconds.

"Right?"

"He's the person I like," Anwar finally answered. His single sentence brought everything to a
standstill—Jamie's voice, the pressure I'd felt earlier. "He's... the person I want to be serious
with."

"Like me? Like me back then?" Jamie chuckled softly. "You know, I once begged you to be
something, to not leave me, to be friends, to be anything that would keep us connected. I
thought you liked me more than others. You'd contact me when you missed me, we couldn't
be without each other. And it hurt so much when I realized I was wrong. You never contacted
me, never even liked my Instagram posts of things you used to enjoy, things we used to do
together."

"Jamie,"

"Your 'like' meant nothing in the end."

"We've talked about this already. I didn't contact you because I wanted you to move on. It
didn't mean I was cutting you out of my life. When you're ready..."

"When you're ready, contact me... that line was so cruel. How was I supposed to contact
you? What was I supposed to say? 'I've forgotten you, let's be friends again'? Or 'I can't
forget you. I've tried, but I haven't liked anyone else.' Which sentence should I have used for
things to get better between us? I guess you wanted the first one, right?"

"If you want to talk about this, can we do it later? I'm really not in the right place to talk right
now."

"Why?" Jamie asked flatly. "Is it the same reason you ignored me?"

"Jamie, please."

"I know what's going on, Anwar. I wouldn't feel this way, wouldn't act like this, if the person
you brought tonight was just someone you casually liked. I spent several minutes waiting for
you outside the room, telling everyone there was nothing going on. I spent those minutes
realizing what I didn't want to realize, thinking it almost could have been me there with you.
What did I do wrong? Why didn't we work out, even though you liked me the most back
then?"

"It wasn't your fault that we didn't work out."

"So, it's your fault then?" Jamie retorted instantly. I couldn't see his face, but I clearly sensed
the anger laced with sarcasm in that sentence.

Jamie's words left me stunned, as if hit by a sledgehammer.

He said he was waiting outside the room... meaning he knew what we were doing?

"No more answers for me," Jamie said sarcastically, before his voice shifted to a flat, cold
tone. "Tag, Anwar. You've been caught. Join the others downstairs."

The sound of footsteps, a loud door slam, and a brief silence. Light from the bedroom
spilled in as the sliding door opened. Anwar stood before me. His expression was serious,
his gaze downcast. He picked up a bathrobe hanging nearby, knelt, and began wiping my
stomach.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" I feigned ignorance; it was easier than responding directly.

Anwar looked up at me, his eyes narrowed. He ensured I was clean before carelessly
tossing the robe to the floor and helping me out of the shower stall.

"About Jamie."

"Are you going to go talk to him?" I asked, avoiding his gaze, focusing instead on buttoning
my shirt and putting on my pants.

"I'm coming with you," Anwar replied, moving closer to help straighten my clothes.

"But you told him you'd talk later. If not tonight, it means another day."

His dark eyebrows furrowed slightly. Anwar didn't answer. His expression clearly showed
something was bothering him, but he wouldn't say it. I had no idea what he was thinking.
I never imagined I'd find myself in a situation like this. Never.

"You know, when my ex-boyfriend cheated on me, spent nights with other people, I never
confronted him. I felt I wasn't brave enough, that I didn't have the right to," I looked up at
Anwar, just as he steadily met my gaze. "But that doesn't mean I wasn't upset. It doesn't
mean I was broad-minded and didn't care. And now, now I appreciate him more than I ever
did my ex. So I want to know if I'm allowed to be upset, or should I act the way I did when I
was with him?"

"Blue, I.."

"Anwar, if you want to talk to Jamie, I don't mind," I interrupted, maintaining a calm voice and
expression, despite the turmoil inside me—like a fire burning in my chest. "But I want to go
home, and I'm going now. If you want to continue talking to him, go ahead. I'll call a cab."

"No, I'm not going to talk to him anymore," Anwar reached for my hand, gripping it tightly,
squeezing gently once before pulling me into a hug. "I'll take you home. Okay?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Will you go home with me?"

We descended from the third floor. Now, many more people filled the house, especially on
the second and first floors. From the twenty people at the dinner table, there must be close
to a hundred now, if I had to guess. Hip-hop music blared throughout the house. The
house's original occupants had vanished from sight. Only those in small groups talking,
drinking, and playing some kind of game remained. The men who had been wearing suits
had shed them, down to just shirts. The women had kicked off their heels and were
wandering around barefoot. New arrivals were a mix of people wearing crew neck t-shirts
and collared shirts with various pants.

The atmosphere now was completely different from when I first arrived; it was like a different
world.

We passed a small living room on the second floor. Anwar hesitated as he looked inside.
Following his gaze, I saw Jordan standing, and Audrey sitting silently on a small velvet sofa.
They both looked up at us, and I could clearly see Audrey's face, even though she quickly
lowered her head and hastily wiped her face.

"I'm going home," Anwar said, starting to walk around them. Before he could get far, Audrey
quickly stood and came towards us.

"Wait, I'm going too."

Jordan's expression was impassive, devoid of his usual playfulness. He raised his glass of
whiskey, drained it in one gulp, and walked past us out of the room without a word. Audrey
took a deep breath, her eyes, ears, and face flushed red. She tried to wipe away her tears
forcefully, smearing her makeup.

"Let's go," she said, starting to move.

Neither Anwar nor I said anything. We simply walked out of the party and silently returned to
the car. "Where should I drop you off?" Anwar asked Audrey, nothing more. When she told
him her apartment, he simply nodded and drove off without another word.

I sat in silence, resting my head against the car window and glancing outside. My gaze fell
on whatever passed by: cars, streetlights, fields, trees, signs I couldn't read because it was
too dark outside. The R&B music playing in Anwar's car filled the silence for all of us. There
was no conversation, no laughter, especially from Audrey, who was usually so bright and
cheerful. Anwar's expression was still and unreadable; I didn't know what he was thinking.
Now, I was consumed by my own thoughts, replaying Anwar and Jamie's conversation in my
head. Especially the phrase, "Your most cherished self means nothing in the end," it
bothered me intensely. No matter how hard I tried to shake it off, it burrowed deeper, echoing
in my mind as if intentionally taunting me.

Did I understand Jamie? Yes, I think I did. The pain of unrequited love must be excruciating,
especially if that person is Anwar. I'd be devastated if Anwar one day told me he didn't feel
anything for me; that the special connection we thought we had was just a lie, a fabrication
of our imaginations. But why would I feel this way?

I felt a surge of possessiveness, a desperate unwillingness to let Anwar talk to Jamie. I
disliked their conversation; perhaps it stemmed from disliking what I'd heard, and the
anxieties and unease I felt while Anwar stood talking to someone he admitted to having liked
more than others in the past.

It was a whole different level of feeling, incomparable to when Anwar was with Kit or Ashley.
I don't know if I'm being ridiculous by acting like this, but if I had to sit there and wait for them
to finish their conversation without knowing how long it would take or what they were talking
about, I think I'd go crazy.

Anwar drove along, taking us back down the same road we'd come, before turning off onto
another to drop off Audrey, who had remained silent since getting into the car. The only
sounds from her were sniffles and sighs.

The streetlights flickered past the car windows, intermittently illuminating us. I closed my
eyes, choosing to escape the turmoil in my heart and the tense atmosphere in the car.
Anwar reached over and loosely took my hand, but I pretended to remain asleep until the car
slowed to a stop.

"Call anytime if you need anything," Anwar murmured into the silence.

"Okay, thanks a lot," Audrey replied in a subdued voice before opening the door and getting
out of the car.

"Blue, are you asleep?" Anwar murmured softly. I felt him lean closer; the warmth of his
body, his breath brushing my cheek. When I didn't respond, Anwar shifted back, his large
blazer falling over my shoulders instead.

That small act made my heart swell. He probably didn't notice me adjusting the blazer. The
Mercedes started moving again. This time, Anwar turned the music down because he
thought I was really asleep.

I don't know how long I sat there, lost in thought. Suddenly, darkness enveloped me. I must
have fallen asleep without realizing it. I woke to Anwar gently shaking my shoulder.

"Blue, we're here."

"Huh?" I lifted my head from the window, my eyes dry and stinging for some unknown
reason. I met Anwar's gaze before looking outside. The familiar white building confirmed we
were back at home, not Chen's apartment.

"You didn't say where you wanted to go, so I brought you home. Can you sleep here with
me?" Anwar explained softly, waiting until I nodded slightly before offering a small smile,
turning off the engine, and getting out of the car.

The house was eerily quiet. Only one light was on downstairs and the lights in the kitchen
area upstairs were still on from when we left. There was no sign of Jordan, Jasper, Ruby, or
Hazel. It was just the two of us.

"Are you hungry?" Anwar asked, turning to me. I shook my head. "Tired?"

"Not really."

"But you were out cold just now. Are you feeling worn out?" Anwar raised an eyebrow.

"I'm awake," I scowled, replying curtly. "I want to shower and then sleep."

"Can I shower with you?" The question made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I pursed my lips, staring at Anwar to gauge his intentions. Anwar stared back calmly, slowly
moving closer. "Don't you want me to shower with you?"

"I'm tired," I said preemptively. But the sex at the party had nearly drained me. Being
repeatedly brought to the brink of orgasm without release had exhausted me completely.

"I'm not going to do anything. I just want to shower with you."

Anwar gently lifted a hand to my bangs, which had fallen over my face. He tucked them
behind my ear and slowly traced his finger from my earlobe down to my jawline. His touch
sent shivers down my spine while simultaneously relaxing me.

"Can I help you shower?"

"Okay, but no sex," I emphasized, slowly unbuttoning my shirt, as he did the same. He
instantly laughed at my words.

"Yes, no sex tonight."

Anwar always kept his word, especially promises like this.

I nodded slightly, letting my thin shirt slide off my shoulders and fall to the floor. I knew Anwar
was intently watching me. Once we were both naked, I avoided his gaze and the bright lights
in the room by quickly heading into the bathroom. Anwar's bathroom was more luxurious
than mine on the third floor. It was beautifully designed, with sandy-colored marble in the wet
area and wood-paneled tiles in the dry zone. Large, light-colored marble tiles covered the
floor. A subtle fragrance of reed diffusers filled the air near the vanity.

I walked towards the shower without looking back at the person following me. Anwar
stepped in behind me, close enough that only a breath separated us. He reached past me to
turn on the shower before we stood silently, letting the water cascade down our bodies.

I'm not that weak or pathetic. In fact, I'm fairly confident I'm within the average range for
Thailand. Maybe a little on the small side, since everyone in my family is rather slight, but I
never considered myself that different from my close friends, Seo or Nile. We might wear
clothes two sizes apart, but it's not like I'd fly across the room if someone pushed me. But
standing next to Anwar like this, up close, the difference is stark.

Anwar works out. He lifts weights and is noticeably strong, with well-defined muscles. His
physique is perfect, like the models you see in magazines. And of course, it's no surprise,
because he is one of those models.

"Blue, are you angry?" Anwar leaned against my shoulder, his forehead resting against
mine. His voice was soft, barely audible above the sound of the water hitting the floor.

"No, I'm angry. Not at all," I shook my head vigorously, aware of his arms wrapping around
my waist and his body pressing against mine. Being held like this felt... secure. "I just..." I
hesitated, the words catching in my throat before I finally finished.

"Just possessive."

"Hmm," Anwar hummed softly, lifting his head from my shoulder to rest his chin there
instead.

"I don't like hearing you talk to Jamie. Am I being childish?" Something ached in my chest. I
felt irritatingly sensitive, my nose starting to feel warm even though there was nothing to cry
about.

Anwar chose to come back with me. He didn't seem angry, but the pressure I'd been carrying
since announcing I was going home didn't lessen at all.

I was suddenly spun around to face him. The strange, slightly strained quality at the end of
his sentence made me shut my mouth. I looked up at Anwar, soaked from head to toe just
like me. The curtain of water made it hard to see him clearly.

"No, you're not being childish," Anwar frowned slightly. That expression again—like he's
hiding something.

"You're unhappy," I said directly.

"No, why would I be unhappy?"

"Because I didn't let you talk to Jamie?"

"You didn't stop me. I chose not to talk to him," Anwar lifted his hand, gently stroking my
cheek before slowly tracing down my body. "I chose to come back here, with you, so I could
shower with you like this."

I raised my hand to wipe the water from my face, though it didn't really help as long as we
were still standing there. Anwar squeezed some soap and lathered it all over, as if he
genuinely intended to help me shower. Seeing that, I started to lather him, running the
slippery soap over his body, feeling his strong chest, his six-pack abs, before circling back
up to his chest out of sudden embarrassment.

Anwar watched intently wherever his hand passed. My body was turned away again as
Anwar lathered my back until it was covered in foam. The warm water and his hands
kneading my back were relaxing. I bit my lip, ducking my head as Anwar moved to kiss the
back of my neck.

"Mmm, Anwar," I murmured, his name barely a whisper on my lips. His hot lips trailed down
from the nape of my neck to my shoulder before he let out a big, exasperated sigh.

"I shouldn't have agreed to this."

I raised an eyebrow, pretending not to hear, then quickly finished showering and washing my
hair. All the alcohol I'd consumed since dinner, combined with the incredibly draining
non-penetrative sex, was completely washed away by the warm water and Anwar's gentle
massage. I felt like I could close my eyes and fall asleep right then and there.

I don't know where Anwar found so much energy. He's a sex fiend, I know that much, but
surely there's a limit to human endurance.

I turned off the water once we were both done, stepping onto the white bathmat on the dry
side of the floor and letting Anwar wrap me in a white towel.

"I can do it myself," I snatched the towel, feeling like a helpless invalid. Anwar then turned to
dry himself.

When I'd moved into Chen's room, I hadn't brought my toothbrush and toothpaste, buying
new ones at Noon (a shop/convenience store). I had no idea how they ended up in Anwar's
bathroom. When I picked them up and looked at him questioningly, he subtly moved to
stand behind me, picking up his own toothbrush.

"Anwar, why are my toothbrush and toothpaste here?"

"I brought them," Anwar replied curtly, placing one hand on the counter, effectively trapping
me in his embrace, before beginning to brush his own teeth.

Our reflections in the fogged-up mirror made my heart race. It was the kind of ordinary
intimacy I loved, making me fantasize about doing this every day. But that was the most
dangerous thought of all—followed by the reality that I'd be returning to Thailand in a few
short weeks.

That thought... the thought of returning to Thailand... withered me more than anything else.
The brush of his body against mine made my heart flutter. After brushing his teeth, Anwar
took another neatly folded towel from below the counter and gently dried my hair. The soft
cloth brushed against my nape, back and forth, as he gazed at me intently from up close.
Anwar gently pulled the towel closer, causing me to step closer until my toes rested on his
warm feet. He leaned in slowly, as if gauging my response and seeking permission, before
finally pressing his lips to mine.

I rose slightly on my toes to better align our faces. Our bare upper bodies pressed together.
Anwar smelled clean and fresh; his skin was smooth, unmarked, and the muscles in his
arms felt firm beneath my touch. I caressed him slowly, tilting his face to allow him easier
access with his tongue.

He's a skilled kisser, always giving me space to respond, never controlling everything.

I've always loved Anwar's kisses, regardless of their style—gentle or rough, demanding or
tender.

We kissed for so long that my feet started to ache, and I pulled away. Anwar didn't protest or
try to continue; he let me lead the way out of the bathroom. He went to his closet, his
well-proportioned body still only modestly covered by a towel. He quickly grabbed a plain
black t-shirt and trousers, then stepped aside. "Choose whatever you want."

"Anything?" I teased, moving towards the closet and scanning its contents. It wasn't my first
time seeing it, but I was still amazed every time. Anwar had significantly more clothes than I
did.

Blazers, shirts, coats, sweaters, cardigans, turtlenecks, t-shirts, slacks, jeans—he had
everything I could think of, and in a wide array of colors and styles. His closet was large, but
everything was meticulously organized and well-arranged.

"Anything at all. Whatever you like."

"Even Saint Laurent or Gucci?" I smiled, running my hand over the various garments before
pulling out a shirt. It was a smooth, soft shirt that would be comfortable to sleep in, with a
snow leopard print. Only when I held it up and examined the label did I realize it was Saint
Laurent, just as I'd jokingly suggested.

"You've worn Saint Laurent before, haven't you? It's just for sleeping; why not?" Anwar said
in a low, slightly embarrassed tone. He bent down, gathered the clothes scattered on the
floor, tossed them into the laundry basket in the corner, turned off the ceiling light, and then
lay down on the bed, waiting until I finished putting on the shirt before turning to me.

I shook my head slightly, feeling self-conscious but unable to do anything about it. I wasn't
wearing my usual underwear, and I certainly wasn't wearing Anwar's, so I had to leave it
uncovered. Anwar's shirt was large; it fell to my hips, concealing my private parts. It was
precarious; if I lifted my arms even slightly, Anwar would see everything clearly.

"So sexy all day long," Anwar smirked as I lowered myself onto the bed and crawled towards
him. He reached out and pulled me onto his lap as soon as I got close. His brown eyes
sparkled, reflecting the warm light from the bedside lamp.

He gently used the towel to dry my hair again, reminding me of the incident in the bathroom.
The difference was that now I was straddling him, and I took the towel draped around his
neck and used it to dry his hair in return.

"How long has it been since you last spoke to Jamie?" I asked. Anwar's expression
remained calm, his beautiful eyes fixed on mine at close range.

"Several months."

"Did you know you'd see him tonight?"

"I only thought I might, but I wasn't certain. Jamie's close to Jasper, and because of that, he
became close to Bree while she and Jasper were together," Anwar sighed. "I didn't intend
for you to meet him or hear him talk like that."

"And how did you feel when you saw him again?" I pursed my lips, this time avoiding his
gaze by looking at the white fabric of the shirt and my own hands instead.

"..."

"Do you still like him?" Anwar was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, so I
rephrased my question.

Anwar stared at me, speechless. He paused, his hand that had been drying my hair
stopping mid-stroke before it instead grasped my wrist.

"Blue, I may have liked Jamie the most at one point, but things between me and Jamie
ended the day we had our final talk... Even if I saw him tonight, I might still have fond
feelings for him, but I don't want to hug him, I don't want to kiss him, I don't want to make
love to him anymore because I know it's not right. It's you that I want to be serious with now."
But I couldn't deny that Jamie had once been in my place, and I might find myself in his
place again.

Although I had somewhat prepared myself, hearing it so bluntly from someone who had
experienced the same situation made me inevitably feel uneasy.

"Are you overthinking it? I don't want you to overthink it," he said.

"Will you talk to him again?" I asked.

"If you don't want me to, I won't," Anwar gently bumped his forehead against mine before
offering a small smile.

It was a strained smile, making my heart ache.

"If you want to talk to him, talk to him. Just don't tell me," I said.

"Saying that is creating mistrust, you know," Anwar said softly.

"I didn't know," I admitted, I had never considered that before.

"If you say that, even if I don't talk to Jamie, you'll keep thinking that I might have, but just
didn't tell you, right?" Anwar lightly touched my nose before moving his finger down to brush
my lower lip. "Jamie might have been the most important person in the past, many months
ago... but if you don't want me to talk to him, I won't. Because now, you are the most
important person to me. Is that clear enough?"

"Crystal clear," I nodded.

The earlier bad feelings were buried with just a few sentences.

"So, can I hug you now?"

"You can hug me now," I moved closer, initiating the hug and wrapping my arms around
Anwar before he returned the embrace, his arms around my waist.

"And can I kiss you now?"

"Hmm," I hummed softly in my throat, leaning in to lightly brush my lips against his before
letting him take the lead, guiding the kiss as he pleased. The initial light kiss gradually
deepened.

I heard my own soft breaths, the sounds of our lips kissing and sucking.

My bare bottom was caressed by a warm hand before I pushed Anwar away slightly,
breaking the kiss.

"Hugging and kissing doesn't mean we're going all the way," I said.

"..."

"Someone kept deliberately preventing me from finishing so many times until I was
exhausted, they must take responsibility for their actions," I teased, leaning up for a light kiss
on his prominent nose and warm eyelids.

Anwar smiled beautifully, his hand sliding from my waist to my chest, then back down to my
bottom, where he squeezed it hard, making me wince.

"..."

"Consider it practice. Next time, we'll go many rounds. You'll find out which way is more
tiring," he whispered.

"No!" I shook my head, turning my back and falling onto the soft bed, while Anwar quickly
followed, hugging me from behind.

"You don't like it if you finish, and you don't like it if you don't. Why are you so difficult?"

"You're being crude. I don't want to talk anymore."

Anwar chuckled in his throat. He fell silent for a moment; only his warm breath against my
neck and the heat of his body pressing close indicated his presence.

"I hope I could say something nice right now, something to reassure you, but I really can't
say anything more than that."

"Don't hope for that, Anwar..." I reached down to touch his strong arm. Anwar tightened his
hug. "I'm sure now."

Jamie's words echoed in my mind.

Anwar couldn't say anything more because he wasn't even sure of his own feelings, whether
he could truly love me or not. Even if he tried his hardest to love me, if he ultimately couldn't,
he wouldn't be able to force it.

I was the one who told Anwar I was willing to take this risk—all the potential future pain if
things didn't go as planned—I would shoulder the responsibility myself.

I truly intended to do that; I really had to. Because I said it, and I can't take it back.

A heavy weight settled in my chest as soon as I thought about it.

Anwar gently held my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine.

"I'm sure now," I repeated, squeezing his hand tightly, waiting until Anwar returned the
pressure.

"Okay."


                                                                          ────୨ৎ────



sorry for the LATE update, our network connection was broken.